


Red is the Warmest Color

by trenchcoat_arrogance



Category: Historical RPF, Political RPF, Political RPF - Russian 20th c.
Genre: Communism, Communist, Crack, Dictators, Humor, M/M, Politics, Satire, full communism, strotsky, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trenchcoat_arrogance/pseuds/trenchcoat_arrogance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of the Russian Revolution Joseph Stalin grows angry at Leon Trotsky. Stalin decides to murder Trotsky, so that he can become Lenin's second in command. However, when Stalin meets Trotsky he realizes that he wants the revolutionary to be more than his comrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stalin is taking a walk through Moscow when he creates a plan to murder is "comrade" Leon Trotsky.

One

The cobblestones clicked under my boots as I walked down the Moscow street. The cold air hit my skin, and my long wool overcoat was doing nothing to shield me from the biting wind. As I walked I felt the air thicken and my throat clench as icy white air escaped my lips.  
I was on a walk for no real reason. I knew what was about to happen. Earlier that morning I had lied to one of the Tsar’s policemen and told him that I didn’t know what was about to happen, because it can’t be stopped. The revolutionaries had plans to start the final battle tonight. Tomorrow morning Russia was supposed to be ours, but I was a skeptic. I’ve always been quite pessimistic, because no leader would give in within a night. The Tsar was no exception, despite what Vladimir Lenin had been saying. Leaders say lots of lies to keep the people happy, and the Tsar claiming to love the people is one. No real leader loves his people. Nobody would risk their power, their ability to establish a vanguard in their name, so that a few people can live. If they gave in, then they would lose it. They would lose it all, and then they would not be a leader.  
That’s why Lenin is so amazing. His willingness to give it all for the greater good amazed me. I was a cynic who did not understand his motivations. Of course, I had read Marxist theory prior to my introduction to Vladimir, but he changed them. He revised them to make them applicable to reality, and to make the revolution more realistic. He told me that while Marx was a great theorist, he was the visionary who could make it work. I cared about making things work. Without an application that I can utilize why should a thing exist? Impractical fancies are a waste of mental energy when you can think of things with ambition that can change everything, because the end is what matters. If everything remains the same, than why do things happen? The world doesn’t continue thanks to non-political pacifist.  
Then, there was Leon. Leon Trotsky. He was terrible, the worst communist to ever live. He was considered a father of the movement, when he joined it so late. People already knew what communism was when he came to power. His followers thought that they were superior revolutionaries; that they were the coming of the fourth international. They are imperialists with a superiority complexes and an idea that they are better.  
Of course Trotsky was the first pick of Lenin. He is seen a true Belikov revolutionary, when I did everything. I followed Lenin before Trotsky even realized what liberalism meant. He is just a weak spineless liberal; whereas, I am the true revolutionary. I may be short, but my brainpower is never short. I am visionary, a revisionist who will save the proletarian and kill the bourgeoisie, but kill them slowly. In fact, I’ll torture them. I’ll force them to be my slaves, like what they did to me. I grew up with an empty and holes and my shoes, so I will make my former oppressors feel like that. Feel like I felt when I was a slave to the capitalist regime. Whereas, Leon Trotsky will not do that. He would never do that, because Leon had a good past. He grew up in a high-income family that made sure his life was perfect. Vladimir hails Leon as the greatest, the one who sacrificed his status for the revolution, but I know better.  
He does it all for status. He wants his name to be known and spread throughout the empire. He wants the Tsar to hate him, and the kids who pushed him down in secondary school to fear him. He doesn’t want the liberation of the people, because the communist utopia will do him no good. He just wants to remain infamous, but in reality he will not do that. His name will be forgotten in history. He will be a small footnote, or not even referenced at all. Only the greatest scholars will have heard of him, and they will find him insignificant and pointless.  
I know that this will happen, because I am making it happen. It may sound like insanity, to know all this, but trust me it is not, because I have a plan. A plan to kill Leon Trotsky. Before the revolution begins he will be dead, so that Lenin will think that he is a coward. It will all look like a suicide, so that there is no investigation that could discover my guilt.  
Afterwards, Vladimir will be infuriated. He will be so angry that he becomes ruthless. He will drop his socialist morale and give everything to the true revolution. He will defy every challenge to ensure that it all happens according to my plan. Vladimir will quickly decide to make me his second, because I am ruthless. He knows of my brilliance and my ambition and will clearly see that I am the perfect second in command. It seems insane to immediately go to the most cunning man you know, but once morality fails the only viable option is to seek a genius.  
“Joseph, are you okay?” Ekaterina asked as she tapped my shoulder. I snapped up to face her.  
“Yes. Sorry, I was spaced out or something.” I said.  
“You seem to do that a lot.” She replied.  
“I just like thinking. It is quite relaxing.” I said as I tapped my foot.  
“Funny. I always viewed deep thought as something that is rather stressful, but to each their own, I guess.” She countered.  
“We are very different people Ekaterina.” I uttered.  
“Very true.” She commented. I began walking away when she sped up. I continued walking faster, because I find her rather irritating. When I was younger she was my friend of sorts. Of course, I didn’t like her, but she found me attractive, so I manipulated her into giving me food. When you’re starving to death, and there’s an attractive rich girl you learn to control her. In fact, one day I fucked her, so that I could give some medicine to my dying mother. I did not tell Ekaterina of this, but I had sexual intercourse with her, and then stole some money from her wallet. Later that day I went to a drug dealer and bought the pills needed to help my poor mother. “Joseph, come back.” She said.  
I quietly moaned in annoyance and then turned to her and said, “What do you want Ekaterina?”  
“You know.” She replied as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.  
“No.” I whispered as I pushed her arms off me.  
“Look, you know that you like it.” She snapped. In fact, I did not like it all. She was way too needy in bed, and constantly made inhuman sounds. Of course, I am aware that a sound of pleasure is not an enjoyable sounds, but her orgasms sounded like dying cats having an orgy.  
“I do, but sometimes I need a break.” I lied.  
“What-- I thought we had a good relationship?” She said as her voice cracked and her eyes teared up.  
“We didn’t have a relationship. We had sex a few times.” I corrected.  
“Am I just some object to play with? Some toy to stick your ugly uncircumcised cock into?” She screamed.  
“Vera, we are in public. Please, calm down.” I said as I took her wrist.  
“I will not calm down! You used me!” She cried.  
“I did not use you. I never said that we were in a relationship Ekaterina.” I said as I began speeding away.  
“That doesn’t mean that you can do this! Joseph Stalin, come back here!” She yelled.  
I heard the sound of tears and began running. My grey overcoat got tangled in my legs and I tripped onto the cobblestone street. My lip hit the red cobblestone and started bleeding. I wiped my hand against it to get some of the blood off my face and slowly rose to a standing position. I kept walking, until I arrived at my apartment building.  
I ran into my apartment and sat on my red chair. I liked the color red, because of what it symbolizes. I like imagining that I am sitting on the blood of the inferior. The death of the liberals, and the red birth of the proletarian liberation. The blood of my enemies brings me complete peace and comfort.  
Sometimes, I feel as though I should feel pity for my enemies, because they did not choose to be my enemy. However, then I remember that they chose their path. They sat there and decided that I was wrong, and that they were right. Today, I felt for a particular enemy: Leon Trotsky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Correction: I initially believed that Ekaterina's name was Vera. I apologize for that factual error


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stalin goes to kill Trotsky and conflict arises.

I was walking again. I do that a lot, because walking relaxes me. Sometimes it just feels nice to stretch your legs, and get some fresh air. The Moscow air is so fresh that it burns your face a bit, but I know that a little hypothermia is good for the soul. Anyway, it was cold again. I mean it’s always cold in Moscow, but today it was different, because I was nervous. I’m always more cold when I’m nervous. However, I was intent on my purpose, so I moved at a brisk pace. I sped up, but made sure not to go too fast so that the ice pick didn’t dig into my thigh.  
I was walking to Leon’s house to kill him. As I stated earlier, I intend on killing Trotsky. I knew what would come if I was victorious, but I felt pangs of guilt strike my heart. I became unsure on whether or not I could kill him. After all, he wasn’t an enemy of the party, but a comrade. He may have views that I despise, but he was pure at heart. Maybe, he rejected his perfect life for a better one. There was just a chance that he was one of us, that he sympathized with the workers, and wanted Russia to have the bright future of communist red.   
I mentally scolded myself. I was intent on killing this man and some weak remorse cannot stop me. Remorse is an emotion that plays into empathy, and empathy is my enemy. Empathy is something that people who cry feel. It is a tool of the upper class to make the lower class stay low, but I can’t stop it. When I was a child, I learned how feeling is wrong. I learned that caring for others will make me fall behind. My mother would scold me and say, “Joseph, you will do great things, and you won’t let the weak stop you.” Those words changed me. They made me stronger and turned me into the great man I am today. However, sometimes guilt triumphs. Occasionally, I feel things that hurt. I can conjure her up in my mind, but it does no benefit. She can’t even save me from the prison of my mind. Nothing can help me when I sink into a pit of remorse. It is my Achilles heel.   
Now, I feel it in full force. I feel the pit of my stomach sinking deeper and deeper into guilt. I feel my heart slowly break as my mind deteriorates and enters a state of self-hatred. I hate myself so much that some blood will do little to help me. Will killing Trotsky and winning Lenin’s favor really make me love myself? It won’t, but I can’t stop me. I’m so close to Leon Trotsky’s home and this is when I get cold. This is when I feel bad and feel my humanity overtake me. I feel the ice pick dig into my thigh as my guilt digs into my mind.  
I’ve arrived at his doorsteps. The plan says that I will circle the building and enter in the rear window. Last week, when I scouted his compound, I noted that the back was his weak spot. In the front he kept a guard from the party in the bushes. If the guard saw me, he would report me to Lenin and I risked being executed. At the very least, it would launch an investigation that may discover my guilt. I considered going in through the side door, but a small man who looked like a queer was blocking the door. Eventually, I realized that he had a small first floor window in the back. This surprised me, because very few homes in Moscow have many windows, but for whatever reason he happened to have one.  
As I approached his front stoop, I lowered my body by bending my knees. When I did this it made my knees hurt a bit and my balance to become very unsteady. I began shaking, so I had to push out my bad arm to prevent myself from falling onto the concrete, and giving myself away. I grew nervous as I continued behind the tall green bushes along the side of Leon’s house. They were quite thick, but due to the fact that is winter some had patches were there were no leaves at all.   
I looked to the roof of Leon’s house and saw a man in crouched in the corner. He had his knees so far out that it caused his black pants to ride up to the point where I could see his ghost-like ankles. He was scoping the perimeter. I was terrified, because I did not account for this in planning. If he saw me he would bring me to Trotsky and the plan would be destroyed. He would report me to Lenin and my hope for power would be pointless, because I would be dead.   
I saw him jump up and point. He yelled, “There’s a small woman in the bushes!” The rest of the guards began running to me. I was petrified by fear. I decided that the best choice was to run, so I quickly ran down the line. My coat was very long, so I had to pick up the sides of it to avoid tripping. The grass was very wet and was making my black leather boots very wet. I felt the water enter my shoes and hit my feet, but I kept running. It felt as if I had been running for hours upon hours.  
Then, I saw a wastebasket. I crouched behind it and heard the soldiers run past. One said, “Where is he?”  
“Not here.” Another replied.  
“Well, he’s gotta be around here somewhere!” The third one insisted.  
“He may’ve been the neighbor?” The first one suggested.  
“I’m pretty sure nobody lives next door.” The first one countered.  
“We may not of known about them.” The third one uttered.  
“We are Leon Trotsky’s security detail! We would’ve known if he had a goddam neighbor!” The first one shouted.  
“How about, instead of arguing about who this fucker is we go and find him.” The second one said caustically.   
“Alright. Alright.” The first one muttered. They all turned away from me. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and stood up. As a stood up I snapped a twig. I heard all the guards turn to me and start running at me. Then, I ran but I did not go far, because I tripped on the bottom of my grey overcoat.  
My face hit the grass and the guards caught up to me. I closed my eyes and put my hands behind my head. I felt my heart sink and all my dreams come crashing down. Without this revolution I was nothing. I was useless, devoid of my one purpose. There was nothing left for me. I was already dead. The first guard kicked my back and yelled, “Hey, you’re coming with me!”  
“Thanks for putting your hands behind your head. Makes it all go a bit smoother.” The second one said.  
“Anytime.” I mocked.   
“Okay, get up you little squirt.” The first one said as he kicked my leg.  
“Don’t call me little squirt.” I replied.  
“What are you gonna do, send me to prison?” The first one teased.  
“That would be far too merciful.” I commented. The guards began leading me to the house. I attempted to think of a way to escape, but alas I could not devise one. I gave up as I approached the doorstep and entered the home of Leon Trotsky.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Stalin is caught by Trotsky's guards, he sees Leon, and his entire view on him changes

The guard squeezed my arm as we entered the foyer. It was a large room with a wooden floor and a high ceiling. The floor creaked under my feet. I looked around the room, but Leon was nowhere to be seen. I asked, “Where is he?”  
“Um, he’s coming.” The guard holding me said.  
“Well, can you tell him to hurry up?” I replied.  
“Shut up!” He yelled as he slapped me across the face.  
“I can tell that you don’t know where he is.” I responded.  
“I do know where he is. Leon, we have a visitor!” He chirped. Shit, he knew where Trotsky was. He wasn’t bluffing. Leon was coming and my one shot at gaining absolute power over Russia was over.  
Then, I heard the sound of boots walking down wooden steps. As each foot hit the stairs my heart raced. I could feel my heart pound into my chest and the sweat stain my heavy overcoat. I felt the fear overtake me. I felt like all of this I had worked for was done. I felt useless.  
The black iron doorknob turned and Leon Trotsky slowly entered the room. He looked me in eye and questioned, “What are you doing here Joseph?”  
“Your guard was being rude to me, and thought I was intruding.” I said as I struggled to prevent my voice from shaking in fear.  
“That’s absurd. My comrade here is quite loyal to the Party.” He retorted.  
“Well, he’s clearly not as loyal as you think.” I lied.  
“Comrade Deshynov, is this true?” Leon inquired.  
“No! This man is lying!” Deshynov shrieked.  
“Why would my comrade here lie to me?” Leon asked.  
“To protect himself from being seen as an enemy.” Deshynov retorted.  
“He is not my enemy. He is my comrade.” Leon answered.  
“Exactly. I am a comrade of this lovely man whom I would never do any wrong too.” I said with a smirk. I was in the clear. I did not realized that Trotsky was this foolish, but I was shocked at his loyalty to the Party. If he was willing to not trust his guard for the cause, then maybe he did not deserve to die after all. I am now understanding why Lenin chose him. He is foolish enough to deny the truth, but smart enough to understand the importance of the coming revolution.  
Also, he is quite attractive. The way his curly brown hair wraps around the thin black wire of the glasses. His eyes were like light crystal pools that I could drown the bourgeois in. Ah, he is a sweet revolutionary. Alas, he is my enemy. He stands in my way of power and his innate ability to tap into my primal urges is a brilliant tactic. Maybe, he is doing all this to show my weakness. To show how I, Joseph Stalin, am a slave to my senses. He is a wicked one and the only way to stop him is my ice pick, but I can’t stop this. I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop this feeling in my stomach. I can’t make my mind stop thinking about how this man is beautiful.  
“I am so sorry about this confusion, would you like a drink?” He asked.  
“Why, yes.” I replied as my lips curled into a smile. Leon started walking out of the room and I began following him. We entered the kitchen, he grabbed a whiskey decanter, and poured me a small glass.  
“Here you go.” He said as he handed me the cup. He poured himself a glass.  
“Thanks.” I muttered as I took the cup from him. I sipped the whiskey and it was extremely strong. Far stronger than I would’ve liked, but since I feel the desire to impress my comrade, I drank as if it were water.  
“How is it?” He asked as he quickly drank the golden brown liquid.  
“Um, very good.” I said as I struggled to keep it down.  
“Too strong for you?” He teased.  
“Obviously no-” I began to say as I contracted over and vomited on his wooden floor. I felt ashamed. I, Joseph Stalin, had made myself look like an utter idiot. I have shamed myself in front of a comrade. And not just any comrade, a powerful comrade, and one who I am sexually attracted to. It hurts me to admit my attraction to this man, but I must, because refusing to admit it would be denial, and denial is the gateway to ignorance.  
“You okay?” Trotsky laughed.  
“Don’t mock me.” I replied as I wiped the vomit from my mouth.  
“Well, I guess it’s not my fault that you can’t handle your alcohol.” He said with a smile.  
“I can.” I commented.  
“Yeah, sure. Um, give me a second. I have to get some cleaning supplies to clean up your puke.” He scoffed. As he left I became even more ashamed. I had never felt so ashamed, and was confused on why. I had never felt like this. Of course, I knew I wanted to fuck this man. I understood myself that well, but how I was feeling about him was different.  
Then, I had a revelation. I was not just sexually attracted to the man, but I was romantically interested. Previously, I believed that there was no romantic attraction. I wasn’t in love with my former wife, Ekaterina, but for whatever reason I was in love with Leon Trotsky. Leon fucking Trotsky. Why had my mind decided to punish me like this? I had never done anything wicked, but somehow the mind had decided that this horrid man was someone I wanted to love. Someone I wanted to dance with at three in the morning, kiss passionately in the rain, watch silent movies, and make love to.  
After I realized how I felt about him, I remember the biggest flaw in my attraction: his gender. I was attracted to a man. I am not a homosexual. Homosexuals are sick abominations. That view is the only thing that the Christians. However, what can the Christians have right? As the great visionary Karl Marx said, “Religion is the opium of the people.” The people who distribute that opium must be wrong about everything. However, Marx said that homosexaulity is wrong. I am a devout communist, so how can I defy my leader. A minor revolutionary like me cannot simply defy the greatest writer of all time. That is the definition of insanity!  
Trotsky returned to the kitchen with cleaning supplies, paper towels, and a mop. He was struggling to carry all three simultaneously, but somehow he had not fallen backwards. “Stalin, can you help me clean up your vomit.” He asked as he put down the cleaning supplies.  
“Oh, yeah.” I said as leaned forward and took some paper towels from him.  
“So, how’s the revolution going?” Leon stated.  
“You’re asking me? You’re second in command.” I mumbled.  
“No, I’m asking Shakespeare.” He joked.  
“Funny. Um, I guess it’s going well. I think there’s nothing that you wouldn’t know.” I retorted.  
“Not to be rude, but if you’re not here regarding the revolution, then why are you here?” He questioned. I felt my stomach drop. I was done. I thought I may’ve been safe from the gulags; however, I was very wrong.  
“Um, uh, I don’t know.” I stuttered.  
“You don’t know? Comrade, you and I both know what you are here for.” He stated.  
“What do you mean?” I remarked.  
“My guards know about the icepick.” He shot.  
“Shit. I’m so sorry!” I spat as I began tensing up in fear.  
“I only have one comment, why haven’t you done it?” He asked.  
“I am attracted to you.” I revealed.  
“What?” He replied.  
“Well, I was going to do it, but then I met you, and I like you. Like I really like you.” I commented.  
“It’s okay Joseph, I believe that I like you as well, but in what way do you like me?”  
“Both sexually and romantically.” I said as I prepared to be discharged.  
“I do too.” Trotsky reported as he began leaning towards me.  
“Really?” I pondered.  
“Absolutely.” He resounded as he ran his hands down the center of my thighs. As his hands moved I felt my nerves light up. Just his hands made my body feel like a live wire. It was practically enough to make me climax right then. Then, I stood up and walked to him. I sat on his lap and wrapped my legs around him.  
“As I said I really like you.” I reiterated as I undid his tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corrections: Vera is not a real person; therefore, I am now using her real name, Ekaterina. I am sorry for any confusion.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Joseph fucked Leon he is awoken by Leon's need to meet with Vladimir. Then, Joseph returns home and tries to think, but Ekaterina interrupts his meditative time.

I woke up in Trotsky’s bed. It was large and extremely comfortable. It was much nicer than any bed I had ever slept in, but I had only slept in a bed for the first time about a year ago when I married my wife. Well, former wife. Anyway, Leon was lying underneath me with his penis against my inner thigh. Even though he was not currently doing anything to me, just the concept of being that close to this man like this was erotic. In that moment I felt so whole. I felt like the world had come together, because of this glorious display of comradeship, but then I remembered. I remembered how wrong this was. I cannot believe that for even a moment I had forgotten that this was immoral. I was being absolutely foolish. I, Joseph Stalin, had committed a sin against the ideology that I valiantly fought for. First of all, the writers of the Manifesto that I abide by did not approve of this. I cannot discount anything the visionaries that inspired me would say. I cannot toss aside any words of theorist who are far more intelligent than I.   
Additionally, I had done it with Leon Trotsky of all people. He was a traitor to the movement; he was one who doubted the glory of the red flag. He had outlier ideas that Russia could not be communist on its own. His discourses were weak, and daresay foolish in comparison to works by Lenin. Also, I was furious at him. He had deprived me of my power. He had taken all that I wanted from me. He had destroyed my sliver of a chance that I could be president of Russia, because Lenin happened to like him more.  
I now know how he does it. He somehow taps into the sinful part of the mind and seduces men. There is no other way that he could do such a thing. How can this feeble man control me without some sort of supernatural ability? Maybe, he was a witch like Rasputin, or some other devil. I personally never believed in religious or paranormal things, but his ability to make me do horrible things cannot be some mundane ability. He must be something more, for there is no way that an average man could do something like that.  
Then, he opened his eyes and whispered, “Stalin, get off of me.”  
I rolled off him and replied, “Sorry.”  
“It’s fine comrade.” He uttered.  
“I know this is a personal question, but was I good?” I asked nervously.  
“Good, hell, you were amazing. You’re the first man who didn’t let me top. Also, your penis is something else.” He chuckled.  
“My former wife never liked it.” I said.  
“Then, she didn’t fuck you like I fucked you.” He snickered.  
“Leon, I fucked you.” I yelled.  
“Sure you did.” He muttered as he stood up and went to pick up his pants.  
“Why are you up so fast?” I asked.  
“I have a meeting with Vladimir.” He commented as he threw me my trousers.  
“Oh, um, I’ll be gone in a second.” I said as I turned around and slowly dressed.   
“Perfect. Let’s do this again sometimes. Just don’t bring along an ice pick, will ‘ya.” He teased.   
“Certainly.” I replied as I exited his room and headed into the Moscow streets.   
I felt different on my walk that morning. I felt like something in me had changed. I no longer felt like myself, but like a stranger who was masquerading around in my skin. Knowing that I was capable of harboring feelings towards another man made me different. It made me someone who was a hypocrite, someone who had to keep secrets to survive. While some revolutionaries find homosexuality empowering, I felt as if it were bad, but I couldn’t say anymore. I was not sure what to think, let alone what doctrine to believe. For once in my life I was lost with no clue where to go.   
I went into my old broken down home and sat in my red chair. It creaked under my weight as if it were judging me for what I had done. I wish I could say that I was think of my victory, but alas I was thinking about my sins. I felt as if I had betrayed my own principles. There is one thing to disobey other’s principles, which can be honorable at times, but disobeying my own when I know that I am an enlightened member of the Vanguard is utter insanity. Moreover, I disobeyed my very fundamental rule to not grow close to an enemy. An enemy should never see past the strongest side of me, let alone let him see the most vulnerable parts of me.   
Maybe, I had it all wrong. It could be possible that I was wrong, for no man can be right all the time. I am no deity; therefore, I am prone to make mistakes. Sure, my cult of personality is impenetrable, but underneath it all I am still that lonely boy wandering around in the cold streets of Georgia. I try so hard, but sometimes I just have to break. This was that break. It had to be. Loving another man had to be a crack. A crack in my strong cement wall that just begun falling onto a bright yellow capitalist ground.  
Just then I heard a knock. “Come in!” I yelled at the door.  
The door creaked open and my former wife, Ekaterina, stepped in and whispered, “Hello darling.”  
“I need to talk to you.” I said as I felt my throat tighten.  
“About what?” She asked nervously.  
“Us.” I stated.  
“I thought we were over. You know what I said to you, and it was ruder than it needed to be, but I don’t regret saying it.” She confessed.  
“We are. We’re so done that I have no idea why you’re even still here  
to clarify.” I replied.  
“You told me to come.” She said.  
“No, I didn’t.” I asserted.  
“Well then, who asked me to come here?” She barked.  
“You think I know!” I yelled.  
“You’re fucking insane! I have no idea what you know!” She blurted.  
“I’m not insane!” I screamed as I grabbed her by the neck. I threw her to the ground as she yelped. Tears began rushing down her cheeks.  
“That’s complete shit!” She cried.  
“You know nothing you worthless woman!” I screamed.  
“I am not worthless. I may not be any Bolshevik, but that says nothing about my value as a human!” She choked.   
“Your traits say what you’re worth. And all your traits are terrible, so sweetheart, you have absolutely no value. You can’t even have good sex.” I sang as I kicked her in the head.   
“I’m done! I’m out! Have fun doing whatever it is you do with those filthy communists!” She screamed as she stood up and left. She loudly slammed the door as she left. I listened to her heels click as she walked down the hall, and my heterosexual partner walk away.   
My tie to the normal Russian life had walked away. She was what made me an average Russian and now she was gone. However, what is so wrong about normalcy leaving? A routine would have to go away for me to truly devote myself to the coming insurrection. Vladimir wasn’t lying when he said revolution wasn’t a dinner party, because my world had just come crashing down, and it wasn’t getting better anytime soon.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bolsheviks begin the glorious October revolution, and Stalin doesn't know what to do with his emotions.

I was sitting on the side of the road with a rifle along my side. It was heavy, and rather uncomfortable as it kept banging against my outer thigh. My hat was loose and was likely given to me, because due to the high interest in joining the guerrillas it was hard to get a uniform that fit. However, Vladimir promised that once we won the war we would all have comfortable state dress that fit us all well. Of course, we would not be required to wear these uniforms all the time, but he claimed that they would be perfect for military related occasions. Even though uniforms and the ideology behind them was not my favorite, I could not question the authority of Vladimir, because he was my superior.  
I developed that mindset as a child. My mother, my poor impoverished mother, would always tell me to respect authority. I had trouble with that. I wanted to be the authority, because I thought I was special. I believed that I was more than an average man. I knew that I wouldn’t spend my life slaving away in the dark back rooms of a factory, but that I would spend it waving a flag. However, this would not just be any flag, but the red flag of the revolution. My mother of course thought this was utter insanity, but I used her words against her. I used her value to respect authority to show her that I would respect my superior, if and only if he also carried the flag of liberation.  
I kept walking down the street and a man stopped me and said, “Hey, young man!”  
“Yes, comrade.” I replied with my head angled down in respect.  
“Stop looking down. This isn’t your funeral, it’s your freedom.” He commented.  
“Sorry, er, I mean thanks.” I chirped as I looked up and into his eyes. I had to bend my neck up to even see his eyes, let alone match them.  
“Yeah, no problem little squirt.” He mocked as he slapped my back.   
“Seriously?” I whined as a kept walking down the road. Ahead I saw Vladimir walking next to Leon. He was far too close to Leon, because I felt as if he felt some commitment to me, maybe not a lot, but some. However, I had no right to police him, because he knew about my relationship with Ekaterina, so I cannot judge. However, it still stung a little.   
Leon turned around, made eye contact with me, and chirped, “Hey! Joseph! Come up here!”  
I ran up to him and said, “Why do you want me on the front line?”  
“Comrade, I’m spending my birthday storming the Tsar’s palace. You think I don’t want my favorite Bolshevik with me?” He teased as he slapped my ass.   
“God, Leon. Control yourself for once.” Vladimir hissed.  
“Oh my, Comrade Lenin! I’m so sorry that I am partaking in a vile behavior now, but don’t worry. It, er, means nothing! Nothing has happened!” I lied.  
“Comrade Stalin, I am aware of Leon’s condition. Honestly, you are not the first one to be seduced by him. I enjoy the man myself, so much that I made him my second, but I am shocked that you do.” He replied.  
“Why?” I asked.  
“The two of you have different ideals.” He commented.  
“Well, sometimes ideals are not everything comrade.” Leon said as he locked hands with me.  
“True, but please keep your relationship private. Faggots are not viewed well by the people, so keep this to yourselves.” He said.  
“Certainly!” I agreed.  
“Okay.” Leon muttered.  
“Enough of this. We are almost at the palace, so prepare yourselves for what will happen. Comrades will likely die in there, but we keep going, no matter what happens.” Vladimir spoke.  
“We expected that Commandante Vladimir.” Leon remarked.  
“However, there is something I did not expect. I believe I am falling ill, and as my second, Leon will assume power once I pass.” He replied.  
“You’re going to pass?” I gasped.  
“Probably. I cannot afford a proper medic, but all the signs are negative, and we must prepare for the worst.” He said.  
“Of course.” I agreed.   
“It is right there.” Leon choked.  
“I hear fear in your voice.” Vladimir commented.  
“No! I cannot think of a better way to celebrate my birthday, than taking down once and for all all. I want the people to be free, I’m just a little nervous. That’s all.” He croaked.  
“Understandable, but just think of how the looks on the worker’s faces when they realize that we freed them.” Vladimir said as he patted Leon’s back.  
“Point. Just think of the workers. Think of the workers.” He repeated as he slowed his breathing, and drew his gun.  
“The revolution lives!” I yelled as I pulled out my gun and ran to the doors of the palace. I heard screams and gunshots as I entered the building. I didn’t look back to see the corpses of the fallen comrades. I kept walking and thought of Vladimir’s words as my heart beat through my chest.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bolsheviks and the guerrillas invade the Winter Palace.

I knew that today would shake the world. I knew that whatever happened as we stormed the palace would do something. Regardless of whether or not we won, we were making a change. We were organizing the workers of the world and that was something that could erase any fear. The fear morphed into adrenaline as I thought of the outcome. The possibility was my sole motivation and my strongest life force as I charged through those large wooden doors. I was witnessing the world turn upside down. No, I was the catalyst, I was the weapon that would turn the world upside down and liberate my oppressed comrades from the greatest evil the world had ever faced: Capitalism.  
Then, there were gunshots. I looked back to the guerillas behind me and couldn’t see beyond their heads. I should’ve known that I was too short to see past them, but no man can stop their base impulses. I thought of Leon. He was the main impulse that I could not fight. I couldn’t stop my body from responding to his in a sensual way. It was toxic. My compulsory homosexuality was impacting me during the liberation of the people. My sins were destroying my thoughts as I completed my life mission. This was so wrong. Everything I had done was wrong, so wrong, but I must not preoccupy my mind, because this is my mission that I will complete.  
The gunshots didn’t stop for a while. I heard the screams of my comrades, but I didn’t look back again. It would’ve been pointless endeavor, because I cannot reverse death. Every scream was a motivation. I could not let these men die for a moot cause. If we failed those screams would be for nothing. The tsar would keep being cruel and the workers would keep being slaves of the capitalist machine. It was evil and it was preventable. Nobody else had to die at the hands of those filthy pigs.  
I was the first Bolshevik. I was the full frontline, then Vladimir ran back and shushed me. I turned to the legion of guerillas behind me and shushed them. Lenin whispered, “They’re in there. There’s a meeting of the Provisional government in there.”  
“We storm in with full force. We kill them all.” I replied.  
“But many are comrades!” Leon chirped.  
“The government has no comrades!” I yelled. I heard whispers in there and saw many officials turn to me. The ballerinas stopped their dancing. Multiple people stood up from their velvet seats and grabbed their weapons. I knew that this would be open fire, and that I may die. That my comrades may die, because of my stupidity. The beautiful man Leon Trotsky may die at my hands. I could not allow that. I would take any bullet for that, because I loved him. In that moment I realized what love was.  
“The tsar is dead Joseph.” Trotsky said.  
“Why did nobody tell us that pig died?” A guerilla yelled.  
“We wanted to surprise you guys.” Leon suggested.  
“That’s a lie! You’re just as bad as the tsar! Any state will lie to us!” Another guerilla yelled.  
“If the tsar is dead, then why are we here!” I screamed.  
“Bolshevik control.” Vladimir said.  
“You mean capitalists are still in power.” I whimpered.  
“Yes.” He responded.  
“Give me your gun.” I demanded. Vladimir pulled his rifle strap off his shoulder. I grabbed the rifle and opened the barrell to check that it was full. I ran into the room and open fired on the provisional government. The guerillas enveloped me and continued fired. I watched as some of my comrades fell beside me, but we killed all the elite in there.  
I knew that we had won. I knew that our first revolution was over, but I didn’t want it to stop. The tsar and his family were simply shot. That was too merciful. They deserved hell. They should’ve been tortured and we should’ve danced in his blood. Of course, I was glad that Russia had begun to fall, but I wanted it to be bloodier. They said revolution wasn’t a dinner party, but this felt like one. This felt too clean for a revolt. I realized that I needed power. It all made sense. I would have to do whatever it took to become the premier, so that we could exact our revenge upon those capitalist monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed writing this chapter, because I wanted to publish it on Stalin's birthday. I'm kind of a nerd.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bolshevik party meets to discuss policy and it becomes overwhelming for Joseph Stalin, so he returns to his apartment and sees Leon there.

I sat in Vladimir’s office sipping a glass of wine and reading the Manifesto again. It was so close to what we did, yet it was so different. We didn’t just have a pen and paper, but people to lead. We weren’t theorists but people who needed to make this happen, and I wasn’t sure how. I was devout communist, but this would be hard, because there were many dissenters. We gathered to figure out what to do in regards to this system, because we had to make a choice: to allow dissent or to become a more authoritarian regime. Leon stopped pacing and said, “We’ve won, but there are legions of people who don’t like the new plan. I have no idea what we should do. I didn’t anticipate this!”  
Vladimir calmly replied, “But I did. I knew someone would disagree. It’s human nature after all, but this is an important choice for the Bolshevik party to make, so I want to know your input.”  
“We kill them. Send them off. Hell, they should suffer in the name of our glorious country.” I suggested.  
“But that’s so authoritarian!” Leon whined.  
“Leon, this is reality. Go back to theory if you can’t handle governing.” Vladimir remarked.  
“But we need to value every human life, so instead of just killing them we must re-educate them.” Leon offered.  
“What’s re-education exactly?” Vladimir inquired.  
“Well, it’d be taking dissenters and teaching them the ways of the Party. We’d teach them how we were right.” Leon explained.  
“Some people aren’t worth rehabilitating. Some people don’t deserve our mercy!” I snapped.  
“They can go to your labor camps. We can even give a few the wall treatment.” Leon replied.  
“So we have a plan?” Vladimir confirmed.  
“That was really quick.” Leon chided.  
“I’m aware. We all know that this is the purpose of vanguardism, to make it simple.” Vladimir answered.  
“Okay. Let’s do it.” I remarked as I took a swig of my wine. I left the office and headed to my home.   
On my walk home I noticed something strange in the air. I felt happiness for once in my life. I saw a boy being hugged by his mother. The drunks in the bars looked like it was the greatest day of their lives. There were papers reading “The Bolsheviks liberate the oppressed.” However, I didn’t feel free. I felt my heavy heart cry out in pain, because in the attempt to save these innocent workers I did bad things. I never would have thought that I would see a man stare down the barrel of my gun. Of course, I had never been afraid of violence, but these inhumane acts were violent. In the moment I felt so good, but now I feel like a monster.  
I walked into my apartment, sat on my red chair, and buried my face in my palms. I felt a tap on shoulders and I looked up in fear, but it was Leon standing there. He bent his knees and kissed my cheek. He whispered, “Are you okay Joseph.”  
“Yeah. Yeah.” I muttered as I wiped my right eye.  
“There’s nothing wrong with crying Joseph.” He replied as he softly pressed his lips against mine. They were soft and they made me warm inside. I felt safe and knew that Leon was perfect. This beautiful wanted me to feel better and that was the most comforting feeling in the world.  
“I’m not crying. In fact, you’re making me feel better.” I replied as I felt a smile cross my face.  
“That’s good. I don’t want you to feel bad. Especially after that meeting.” He commented as he straddled his legs around my hips. I ran my lips under his chain and he leaned into me.  
“I don’t feel bad. Well, not anymore.” I uttered as I began kissing his neck.  
“Fuck me Joseph.” He remarked as he stood up and began walking to my bed.   
I followed him into my bedroom and I wrapped my hands around his neck. I ran my lips along his neck and wrapped my right along around his left. He fell backwards onto the shaky bed. He sat up and I removed his shirt and jacket. He threw off his old glasses. I ran my fingers along the rim of his pants. I undid the button and slowly pulled them off. His boxers came off the pants, and were in a messy pile on my bedroom floor. I undressed as he got himself off. I sat on top of him and thrusted into his asshole. He moaned and eventually climaxed. I felt so alive. This was what power felt like. I felt more empowered than when I shot up the provincial government. This was strength and I was strong. Every moan he made was a shot of adrenaline into my bloodstream. “Woah, give me some time to recover.” He commented.  
“What’s the fun in that?” I teased.  
“Last time you were much less intense.” He moaned.  
“I was playing it nice.” I replied.  
“You certainly were.” He commented.  
“You ready to keep going?” I asked.  
“No, I think I can’t handle any more.” He gasped.  
“Was I bad?” I inquired as I climbed off him and laid beside him.   
“You were too god. I just need some time to catch my breath.” He said.  
“Okay. You want to just cuddle for a moment then?” I suggested.  
“That’d be lovely.” He answered.   
He wrapped his arm around my chest and pulled me into him. He wrapped my left leg over my hip. He kissed my neck and just let us breathe together. We were in a lyrical silence and in that moment I was happy. It was the happiest I had ever been. I felt so happy to be alive and I felt beautiful. For once in my life I felt loved.   
My entire life I had wanted to be perfect. I would judge myself based off what I had and had not done. I for once was appreciating where I was in life. I finally knew how people were completed by love. I understood why this emotion is regarded as the most powerful feeling in the world, because the burning passion in my heart was making me human again.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon and Joseph wake up after sleeping together, and they go to Vladimir's inauguration as premier in the Red Square.

I woke up with Leon wrapped around me breathing slowly. I quickly looked to my metallic clock on the small wooden bedside table. It struck seven and I pushed him off me. He made a low muttering sound and then I slapped his side. He rolled over onto his side, covered the side of his face, and whispered, “It’s too early for that Jospeh.”  
I pulled his wrist to raise him and replied, “No, you idiot. Vladimir’s officially premier today.”  
“That’s today?” He sighed.  
“Yes.” I shot.  
“Of course it is. God, this government shit is so taxing, like why can’t I just have a little bit of sex?” He groaned.  
“You’ve got the wrong job then.” I snapped.  
“Aren’t you lovely in the morning.” He moaned as he stood up and put on his clothing.   
“That’s a bit informal.” I suggested.  
“I don’t care Joseph.” He said as he exited my apartment. I leaned back and sat down on my red chair. I slowly sighed, swore, leaned forward, and tears began running down my face.  
I felt dirty. I was guilty of the acts I had just done, and what I had lost. I would never be the premier of the Soviet Union. I had let this man charm me into thinking that power was not to be a priority. He had used me. Joseph Stalin was not a man who someone can just use to advance their agenda. I was not a simple pawn that can pulled across the chessboard that is eastern politics. I was always told that this is a hard industry to break, that the quest to power was not one for the weak, but I did not believe that I was weak. I thought of all people I could do the impossible. I was convinced that I could rise up from the slums of Georgia and claim what was destined to be mine: Power.  
However, like all fools I was easily distracting. I had yet another erotic evening with Leon, and I had broken yet another one of my rules. I knew that I needed to overtake this great nation, and turn it into a great empire, my empire. I would be victorious, loved, hated, inspired, revolutionary, and most of all, powerful. I would be more than a tsar, because I would be doing it for those I love. I would not be some affluent man sitting on his ass, but a powerful man of steel. After all, I had changed my last name to Stalin for a reason, to be that infamous man of steel who I lusted after. However, my sexual desires was hindering my ability to achieve this fantasy that I had lusted after since I was a young boy starving in the streets.   
“What are you thinking about?” Trotsky asked, interrupting my train of thought.  
“Nothing important.” I replied.  
“That’s good, because if you’re right and it is the day when Vladimir becomes premier, we should probably get moving.”  
“Yeah, yeah I know.”  
“Hey, you’re the one who was bitching at me to get ready.”   
“I said, ‘I know’.”   
“Okay, Joe.”  
“It’s Joseph.” I replied as Leon threw my pants at me. They were new, I had bought them for this occasion. I wanted to look nice for Vladimir’s inauguration, because I would one day take his place. I knew he was already terminal, so I wouldn’t have to wait long, so I had to impress the Soviet people. They knew Leon from the revolution, he was well-regarded commander and many people admired him for his impressive efforts in taking down the tsars. Before the meeting yesterday, he told me that he was creating a manuscript that would publish his ideals and hopefully make him the next Marx. He was writing a doctrine, and what makes your platform more clear to the people than a new ideology based on the principles that outlined the revolution they fought in? Nothing, Leon was destined for power over the Soviet Union, and I couldn’t stop him because I love him.  
We exited the apartment and began walking to Red Square. While we walked a blonde girl in a Communist Party uniform stopped us and asked, “Are you Leon Trotsky?”  
“Yes.” Leon replied.  
“You’re the best! I hope you become tsar one day!”  
“I will never be a tsar, the imperial rule oppressed the workers. To insure that the State is truly looking after the people, we can’t have monarchs, but rather premiers.”   
“Like the Americans have their, how do you say? Oh, president!”  
“Not exactly, you see we have a dictatorship of the proletariat.”  
“Leon, we don’t exactly have time to explain Marxism, I’m sorry girl, we have to go.” I interjected.  
“Who are you?” She asked.  
“Joseph Stalin.” I replied.  
“Never heard of you.” She said.  
“He’s a comrade.” Leon answered as he pulled me away from the girl. We continued walking to Red Square, though I remained silent for the rest of the walk. I was offended that this young girl blatantly disrespected me like that, I was a vitally important official in the vanguard. Maybe, I’m not as important as Leon, but I am still one of the most influential people in the entire country. Hell, I may be one of the most prominent men in the whole word, or I will be after Vladimir’s tragic death.  
We filed into the area of the square where Party officials were required to stand. Vladimir walked back to us, he looked extremely nervous and reeked of sweat. “Calm down.” Leon said as he ran his hand along Vladimir’s forearm.   
I felt jealous, because I thought Leon was only intimate with me. I may not have specifically said that I wanted us to be monogamous, I implied it. After all, I had not spoken to Ekaterina for the past few weeks and we were married! I cannot be disrespected by Leon like this, he cannot sleep with every communist in the nation, it is both decadent and filthy.   
Vladimir turned from Leon and began walking to the middle of the square. People were so tightly crammed into the square, everyone’s shoulders were so tight it hurt. However, nobody was thinking about discomfort because he was standing on that box with his coattails flying, talking to the masses and inspiring workers. He was now premier and that speech meant that he would be premier until the day he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I'll try to update more frequently!


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph formulates a plan to become the next premier and speaks to Ekaterina for the first time in a long while.

I was in a melancholy mood, but it was more somber than even melancholy, it was a mood of heartbreak. I should not be sad, for the man who I aspired to be had done the impossible task of destroying the Russian Empire and raising a worker’s state from the ashes of the tsar’s palace. I should be empowered and proud, after all this impossible man was my friend, my brother in arms. However, I felt depressed and as if I was a piece of dust that is flying in the wind. This man was doing what I felt I was entitled to, after all my suffering and nights of hunger I deserve more. I belong at the forefront of the Soviet Union, and I need to be there.  
This melancholy state showed me one powerful thing, that I was more than some emotional mess. It showed me that I have the potential to overcome my furor and be a man of power. However, there was one task, one emotionally painful and scarring task, that I must do before this can happen. I don’t want to do it, I want to remain happy; however, I have to cut my chains and ties to weakness. I have to eliminate the man I love from my life to insure that I can be the premier of this fine nation. That I can fulfill my duty to the great Marxist academics that compiled this theory, this doctrine of egalitarianism that only I can impose upon the populace. After all, I know that equality does not come through indolence, but under an iron fist, my iron fist. I am not the man of steel for nothing, I did not abandon my life in Georgia for this wasted time.  
I must compile my plan, but I must maintain utmost secrecy to protect myself from wandering eyes. I cannot allow any living soul to know of my plan, or it will shatter like a skyscraper composed of the most fragile glass possible. Becoming the most powerful man in the Eastern world is a high task, but if Vladimir can achieve power such as this so can I. Thankfully, I have already been assured a powerful spot in the Party and given a sense of job security. My connections with Leon can ensure even more security and provide me with the safety net required to advance in the ranks. It amazes me that my prior burden is rapidly becoming my greatest asset in politics. It seems as if anything goes in the legislative process, after all with such a young nation it should be simple to quickly burst up even higher.   
However, the Soviet Union has council elections and this could be my downfall. Of course, the moment I acquire power I will rig these so that I maintain power; however, before then I cannot assure that they will play out in my favor. I must seem like I have a stable life, a friend to the Soviet lifestyle, so I must marry. I do not like Ekaterina and she is less than enjoyable in a sexual sense, but she will do. With all of our history and her petty affections towards me I can be certain that she will comply to my plan. Though if I marry her, then Leon will question my fidelity and, damn, I still love him. Regardless of how his love hurts me, I still crave it with every fiber of my being. My heart, my soul, my mind, and my nerves all call for his graceful touch. I need his affection, so my mind discourse. I must either be happy or powerful, while I can lie and say I desire power, deep down I know that I want to love and be loved.   
I decide to maintain sexual ties with Leon, as I mentioned earlier they may play out in my favor. Thankfully, Ekaterina is thick skulled and will never be aware that anything is going on. I do hope that Ekaterina dies once I become premier and eradicate this pointless electoral system, it does the country no good anyway. I do question Vladimir’s logic in forming a vanguard authority, but keeping democracy in place; however, that is a discourse for another day.   
I visited Ekaterina’s father later that day and he gave me directions to the friend’s house where she was staying. I was shocked that she was not in her family home, but alas, I went to the location in which her friend resided. I knocked on the door and there was no response, dead silence. I knocked again and she still did not open the door. At this point I was rather irritated, so I knocked even harder and yelled her name at the door.  
Then, a tall woman opened the door and motioned me inside the room. It was disorganized and Ekaterina was sitting on a partially broken couch in the corner. She was looking down as I said, “Ekaterina, where have you been.”  
“Here.” She replied.  
“You mustn’t be short with me, I want to take you out for dinner.”  
“There’s a shocker.”  
“I do not understand, you are my partner, and thus I go out with you.”  
“I never thought you would come back.”  
“I love you.”   
“Really?”  
“I promise.” I assured her as she followed me. It was not surprising that she was so easy to sway, after all she was not bright. She was not a hostile creature, but rather a friendly one. She may complain about me, but deep down she knows that I have her wrapped around my fingers.


End file.
